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Crisp air blew through Claude’s unruly hair. He made his way to the library, a usual romp of his. As he walked forward, he came across Marianne von Edmund. He raised his hand, ready to speak. His breath catches in his throat. She glances up and they make eye contact, but her eyes quickly dart down and she rushes past him. He knows he’s slighted her. He kept pushing her about her fate and her curse. He kept prodding at her, when in truth, it was not his business. In his heart, he knows he should apologize, but in his head, he’s afraid she will run away.
He keeps moving onward to the library.
—----
At the Establishment Day Ball, Claude searched for Marianne. He felt it was time he apologized. She was nowhere to be found. He weaved through the crowd of dancing students, and stumbled past gossiping watchers. He found Hilda and approached her. She looked at him with a smile and asked, “So when will I be graced with a dance with the heir to the Alliance?”
He grins at her and winks, “As soon as you tell, where is Marianne?”
Hilda frowns and turns to look at the main doors leading out the main hall. “She went back to her room. She said she made her appearance and didn’t want to bother anyone.” Hilda sighs, “I think I may have scared her by asking her to dance with me.”
“Well then, let me be your partner.” Claude says as he takes Hilda’s hand and pulls her in for a dance. Despite having fun with his friend, he still could not help but keep a lingering thought on Marianne.
—----------
Five years later, on the day that would have been the Millenium festival, the Golden Deer had reunited. Claude had made his way greeting everyone and catching up. Everyone but Marianne. Despite rarely, if ever, setting foot in the chapel, Claude knew somehow that Marianne would be there. He pushes open the doors and was greeted by the scent of wet stone and dust. The sight of the collapsed cathedral was a sorry sight, even if the church of Seiro was not his own in practice. But at the bottom of the rubble, piously keeping her prayers, was Marianne.
He silently went towards her and paused. He didn’t want to startle her and make her run. But he didn’t want to just watch her pray like some zealous creep. He clears his throat. He sees her small jump, but she continues praying. He stands beside her and bows his head, in some sort of respect. To the goddess? To Marianne? He’s not quite sure. He closes his eyes and exhales.
Alerted by the sound of clothing rustling, Claude opens his eyes and looks to his right. Marianne turns to her left and glances away, then looks back at him. She offers him a smile, then quickly turns and leaves.
—------
Perhaps there is no right time to apologize, especially when it is a five year old sin. Perhaps it is far too late to ask for forgiveness. Claude ponders to himself. His thoughts distract him from his duties as commander of an army. His arms are clasped at his back, and trudges to the stables. Horses, he finds, make good company. When he rounds the corner, he finds Marianne talking to Dorte and tending to him.
Maybe all those rehearsed times lacked the sincerity that was needed for something like this. So he approaches her and asks her to hear a story. To hear a story no one else has been privy to, and he tells her his story.
—-------
Maybe it’s knowing that someone has her back and someone wants to help her with her burdens, that emboldens Marianne. But when the scholar had confronted her about her curse, her crest, she felt it was time to go to the source. Marianne leaves without a word to anyone, in search of her cursed ancestor.
A sense of panic hits Claude, when the professor had come running for him, announcing that Marianne has gone off on a dangerous quest on her own. He asks them to go round the rest of the Deer. Beside him, Hilda’s lips have blanched. When Hilda comes to, she runs for Freikugel and runs behind the professor. Claude also rushes to grab Failnaught and runs after the two.
Seeing a silhouette of Marianne in the thick fog gives Claude a paradoxical sense of relief and terror. There was no way she could withstand the assault of cursed beasts, wolves and the giant cursed beast in front of her. He hears the two talking, but his ears ring. He notches an arrow into Failnaught and the arrow blazes gold. He pulls it back as far as he can, taking aim at the head of the beast, and lets it fire.
—
After the battle, Marianne collapses from fatigue. Claude runs to her and catches her before her head can hit the ground. He leans close to her and hears her breath, feels it tickle his ear. Hilda runs to his side and falls beside him, grabbing Marianne’s hand. She looks at Claude, a relieved smile painting her face. “She’s okay,” Hilda sighs. She touches the back of Marianne’s hand to her forehead and Claude hears her whisper, thank the goddess. To whatever god or goddess protected Marianne, he was incredibly thankful.
After all, who would be there to help with his burdens
—--------------------
The battle against the Liberation was so much more terrifying than he thought. Not that he underestimated Nemesis, but he hadn’t expected that everyone would exhaust their abilities and weapons to nothing, before the King finally fell. It was Lysithea’s last ounce of magic that finally ended the resurrected king.
Claude left his celebrating friends and went to the goddess tower to be alone with his thoughts. Tonight, he would leave Fodlan and take his place as Khalid, King of Almyra.
He hears the clack of heels against stone approaching him. He looks behind him, and sees Marianne. “Oh, sorry. Did you want to be alone?”
He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Come join me.” He says as he motions for her to come, and he leans his hands against the battlement. Marianne stands beside him, her hands behind her. They let the wind comb through their hair, as they look onwards at the setting sun. It’s comforting; to have someone there. It’s comforting for both of them. There’s something left to settle. Perhaps, it is the connotation of the goddess tower, that two lovers should meet here. Perhaps, it is the magic of the setting sun. Perhaps, it is just the company of a good friend.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you.” Marianne whispers.
Claude nods.
Marianne dips her head forward then looks to him. “To…”
“Almyra.” He replies.
Marianne nods her head then looks back up. They continue their silent gazing. There’s something there, that wasn’t always there. At least that’s what he feels. There’s something new or something new that’s happening. He can’t quite place it. “You should visit sometime.”
Marianne smiles. “I’d like that.” She leans forward and lets her right hand grasp Claude’s left. He finds himself gripping her fingers.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Me too.”